Survivor
by TheShippyQueen
Summary: Molesley had never excelled at anything. He was Mr Average, just one of life's survivors.


_A/N: OK so this was an idea that hit me very suddenly. I've never considered myself a huge Molesley fan especially as I've always championed Anna/Bates! However the idea of Molesley feeling second rate, a bit of a loser came to me and I began to write. I hope you enjoy it and maybe, just maybe you may feel a little bit sorry for poor old Molesley!_

_I OWN NOTHING!_

**Survivor**

Molesley had never been a champion. In fact, he'd never actually won anything in his life. You could say he was one of life's survivors. He was middle of the road, Mr Average. His father excelled at gardening, his mother had excelled at cooking but Molesley? Well, there was nothing, not really.

He was a good valet; he knew his profession well, worked hard and completed each task with care and consideration – that was never in any doubt. But was he an outstanding valet? No. Was he an outstanding servant? Well, no. Good but not outstanding.

Even as a boy, Molesley had always muddled through. Never academic, he had just about survived his compulsory years at the church school, scraping the three 'Rs' by the skin of his teeth. Entering service as soon as he could, Molesley learnt that silence and servitude served him well. He found that lingering in the background was far more agreeable to him than being in any sort of limelight.

Even with the opposite sex, Molesley had not exactly been lucky. Unlike other men his age, he had preferred to read rather than chase after the young maids who lived in the houses he served in. They frightened him with their giggles, coy glances and whispering. They were always in groups and always seemed to find him amusing; no, Molesley could not work women out. Therefore it was easier to avoid them.

Living away from his home of Downton had been a hard toll upon Molesley; he'd plodded on through life and life it seemed had passed him by. So when the opportunity arose to return to his childhood village and take a job as valet to the new Crawley heir, it seemed a dream come true. He could be close to his father and be surrounded by familiar things. It seemed a nice way to end one's service.

It hadn't been easy to return (the new heir wasn't exactly the most accepting of his help and for a while it seemed as if this return would be short lived) but Molesley had survived and now had a good working relationship with Mr Crawley. Life had really settled for him and so it was on one day as he folded Mr Crawley's shirts that Molesley realised life was truly passing him by. Age was not on his side any longer and although he enjoyed his work, did he have anything to keep him happy and amused in later life? No.

What Molesley needed, he decided, was a wife. A woman who he could look after, share things with, get up and go to bed for. A good woman who would love him and allow him to truly love her in return. So as he closed the drawer on Mr Crawley's shirts, Molesley decided he was going to get himself a wife.

But where does one begin in a small village, especially when as a servant you work long hours? The only real place you'll find someone is within your workplace and as lovely as Crawley house was, the choice of women was limited to Mrs Crawley (clearly out of the question!), Mrs Bird the cook (terrified Molesley to his bones), Ellen the housemaid (nice but not exactly fire-lighting) and Beth the kitchen maid (far too young!). So it seemed to Molesley all was lost, until that is he began to spend more time at Downton Abbey with Mr Crawley (thank the heavens for Mrs Patmore's cataracts!)

Downton was a veritable hot-bed of females and Molesley was quite enraptured. He found that at every corner there was a sensible and attractive maid for him to ponder. There was Gwen (very sweet but a little too fiery and ambitious), Lily (a sweet housemaid but little personality), Mrs Hughes (that was a definite no the minute she scolded him for sitting in the wrong seat at dinner!), Mrs Patmore (again, no, far too frightening for Molesley's sensitive nerves), Miss O'Brien (a definite no! She'd called him a weasel, told him to keep well away from her chair and said if he expected her to be civil to the valet of a man who should be a valet himself then he was more simple than he looked – this was all in the space of ten minutes! No, she was definitely off his list!), then there was Daisy (much too young!) and finally there was Anna.

Head housemaid and ladies maid to the Crawley girls, Anna always seemed to be busy. She rarely stopped and was always rushing here and there but despite all that she always had a smile and seemed to have a happy disposition. Of all the servants, Anna would always speak to him and ask him if he needed anything. Molesley quickly decided that Anna was a real find and he would like to know a little more about her.

Knowing she would be leaving soon for London with Mrs Patmore, Molesley decided to grab his chance when he could. Discussing the verbal spat between Mrs Bird and Mrs Patmore, Molesley found Anna to be amusing and intelligent as well as pretty to look at. It seemed to Molesley she was ideal, all he had to do now was find out if she was available and then win her.

In the short time he observed her; Molesley could not discover that there was anyone in particular. She ate her dinner sat between Gwen and Mr Bates, spoke freely to everyone at the table and didn't appear to save any special glances for anyone, though she did give him a sweet smile when he asked for the salt! Molesley felt that he could very easily get used to that smile and so spent the rest of the evening hoping to attract her attention. However fate it seemed had other plans and she was quickly called away by Mr Bates, apparently she was needed upstairs and Molesley did not see her again.

The week passed by and Molesley found he was thinking more and more of dear sweet Anna. It seemed she was well liked amongst the staff and so her name was frequently mentioned, often by Gwen. Molesley found these conversations interesting and listened carefully, however throughout this whole time nobody seemed to mention any suitor for her affections. When Lily the maid mentioned the butcher's boy had brought her a flower that morning, Mrs Hughes reaction was volcanic.

"Now see here young lady!" She cried across the dinner table, her accent thickening with anger, "While you work at Downton you are under _my_ jurisdiction and let me make this clear, men are strictly forbidden!"

Lily was suitably scolded and sat in devastated silence for the rest of the meal. Molesley suddenly realised that suitors would not be mentioned, certainly not in front of Mrs Hughes! He would have to find out in other means and he must also remember to keep his intentions well away from Mrs Hughes. He feared another scolding from her would send him to an early grave. Looking at poor Lily, she seemed to have already gone to hers!

The day before Anna and Mrs Patmore were due to return home, Molesley was sitting in the servant's hall with Mr Bates, Miss O'Brien, Gwen and William. They had been discussing Mrs Patmore's impending return; Miss O'Brien it seemed was in a particularly spiteful mood and had made some rather sharp comments regarding Mrs Patmore's eyes.

" 'is Lordship must 'ave more money 'an sense forking out all that cash on a blind cook!" She'd mused, "Well….can't say I'd 'ave done it! I wouldn't want anyone pokin' about with my eyes, I'd rather be blind! I'd 'ate to feel as though I owed Lord 'igh an' mighty owt!"

Gwen had rolled her eyes and William had glared but nobody spoke. Mr Bates was the only one who offered a comment, "Steady on, Mrs Patmore's a hard working woman, she's been here a long time. Of course they'd want to help her."

"I think it's very noble." Molesley had offered, feeling brave with Bates at his side. "Anyway, it's a fairly simple procedure from what Mrs Crawley said."

O'Brien goggled at him, her face turning into a deep scowl. "Who threw you nuts?" she demanded, "Comin' up 'ere, eatin' our food and offerin' your opinions! You ought to know your place!"

"Easy now." Bates had said warningly,

"Oh I knew you'd stick up for 'im!" O'Brien snapped, "You valet's, you're all as bad as each other!"

Bates sighed deeply and said nothing. Molesley felt himself colour, O'Brien was truly frightening, he dropped his eyes and didn't speak again. It was Gwen who broke the silence mentioning – joy of joys- Anna.

"I expect Anna will be glad to get back 'ere"

"Why?" O'Brien demanded instantly, her eyes snapping up to Gwen's face, "She ought to think 'erself lucky gettin' a week off work swanning about in London like Lady Muck!"

"Hardly!" Bates said with a shake of his head.

O'Brien raised an eyebrow, "Of course she is! You don't really think she'll be missing this place do ya? Oh if I was her, I'd not want to come back!"

"We can but hope." William muttered just loud enough for Molesley to hear.

"Well I've missed her!" Gwen announced.

"Here, here." Bates agreed.

"Me too!" William added, earning a scowl from O'Brien.

"She seems very lovely." Molesley added, realising he'd spoken aloud he felt the colour rise up his neck and into his cheeks. Sadly this was not missed by O'Brien, she smirked and said,

"Isn't it 'eart-warmin' to 'ear such declarations about Anna? She'll be touched am sure!"

"When is she due home?" Molesley asked, he tried to sound nonchalant but his voice came out a little high and squeaky, a dead give away.

"What's it to you?" O'Brien demanded, her smirk grew wider, "Why you sly…."

It was at that moment that the bell had rung for Lady Grantham's bedroom. O'Brien's words caught in her throat and turned to a growl, the smirk turned to an infuriated scowl and she crashed her cup back into its saucer.

"Flamin' 'ell what does she want now?" She'd demanded getting up. "I've a good mind to tell 'er where to shove her flamin' bath water!"

Molesley breathed a sigh of relief as O'Brien left; in fact it seemed that the whole room breathed a sigh of relief. He hoped she hadn't guessed his thoughts. Something though had told him that she had.

Anna and Mrs Patmore's homecoming was sadly marred by the terrible loss of Lady Grantham's baby. The poor woman had slipped getting out of the bath and everyone felt the loss immensely. However, for Molesley the news although sad meant a change in his own fortunes for now he was still the valet to the heir to Downton, which for a while had been in jeopardy.

During this time of sadness, Molesley found time to observe Anna once more. She was clearly upset by the miscarriage and spent a lot of time with the other female staff, especially comforting the younger maids. Molesley found this to be an endearing quality and found the more he observed the more he liked her.

There were a few times when Molesley managed to speak with Anna, she would smile and laugh with him before hurrying on her way. No she was a sweet girl, pleasant and did not seem adverse to him. Molesley hoped he had a chance; however he still needed to know if he was the only one vying for her attentions.

So it was that Molesley found himself standing at the Grantham's garden party. The sun was shining; the sky blue and the aristocracy were thoroughly enjoying the Downton hospitality. Molesley had been helping out but all the time watching out for Anna. He was occasionally lucky enough to receive a smile from her as she passed, he would turn and let his gaze follow her before turning back to his duties with a smile.

As the afternoon progressed he saw her standing with Mr Bates, they were conversing together and Molesley couldn't help but think how lovely she looked. As she walked away he approached Bates and stood at his side,

"Nice girl that Anna." He said watching her departing figure; he tried to look nonchalant as he made his statement. "Do you know if there's a special someone?"

He didn't dare look at Bates and instead remained facing straight ahead, Anna still within his eye line. Bates' response however brought his hopes crashing down.

"I'd like to say there isn't, truly I would but I'm afraid there is someone."

Molesley tried to keep his face expressionless, this was an awkward conversation but he needed to know and Bates seemed a safe person to ask.

"Is it serious or do you think it's worth a shot?" He questioned.

Bates' answer again dashed Molesley's hopes and suddenly the day was not turning out quite as well as he had hoped and it was with a heavy heart he had walked away from Bates wondering who this mystery suitor was and did Mrs Hughes know? Clearly not!

He spent the next few minutes wandering around the group pondering these recent turn of events and his own misfortune. Maybe Bates was wrong? Maybe he still had a chance? He had to cling onto that hope however small it may turn out to be. However, even if Bates was right and there was some suitor lurking, there was no reason that Anna couldn't be persuaded towards another now was there? Maybe there was still a chance and if there was then Molesley was taking it!

Molesley had just made up his mind to go and speak to Anna when a commotion caught his eye. Lord Grantham was shouting and calling everyone's attention. Standing still, Molesley listened with the rest of the party and staff as his Lordship relayed the terrible news. England was now officially at war with Germany. Everyone's darkest fears had come true and now England was no longer safe and the men were no longer free.

Molesley found himself offering a silent prayer of thanks that he was now too old to fight but it still did not stop a feeling of dread fill through him at the thought of all the other men who would have to leave, men like Mr Crawley. That was a saddening thought indeed.

It seemed that a cold, icy feeling spread across the bright green lawn and despite the warm sunny day and clear skies, dark clouds were quickly forming. It was the start of a new dawn for them all. In times such as this, the human instinct is to search out comfort from someone you hold dear and this was certainly one of those occasions.

Lord Grantham turned to his wife and she returned his gaze with fear and trepidation. Mrs Hughes turned to Mr Carson, faithful friends who would stand together through thick and thin. Lady Mary turned to find Mr Crawley amongst the crowd; Lady Edith just tried to meet anyone's gaze. The Dowager Countess turned to her daughter, William turned to Daisy and Lady Sybil turned to the Irish chauffeur Branson – an act not lost on Molesley!

Molesley himself turned to find Anna amongst the crowd but as his eyes fell upon her form he saw that her gaze was otherwise engaged and in a sudden blinding epiphany Molesley understood. For Anna, in this dark moment, had searched out the mystery suitor and that suitor was returning her gaze – Mr Bates.

For a brief moment, Molesley could not quite believe it but it was there for all to see. A tender gaze shared between two lovers. A whole silent conversation being carried out through a look. It all became clear, Mr Bates' words rang in his ears and for not the first time in his life, Molesley felt like a fool. Of course Bates knew all about this suitor for that suitor was him!

"Dear me." O'Brien's voice cut through Molesley's reverie. "Fancy that! Beaten to the prize by a cripple!"

Molesley spun on his heel to face O'Brien, "Shouldn't you be looking after her Ladyship? Especially after what she's just been through?"

O'Brien's face contorted into a mixture of anger and…was it grief? Despair? Regret? Molesley couldn't tell but when she next spoke her tone was softer. "Pardon me for breathin'!" She turned and stalked away towards Lady Grantham leaving Molesley alone once more with his thoughts.

She was right though wasn't she? It seemed that once again Molesley had come in second place in life and once again he had failed. Standing alone on a lawn, there was no-one to meet his worried gaze. No-one who would worry for him, no-one who would care for him and no-one who would even think twice about him. He was just Molesley - what a sad state of affairs!

No, Molesley was not a champion, he had never won at anything and he didn't excel in any area. He was just Molesley – an aging valet with no prospects. Not going anywhere, he was alone in the world. Middle of the road. Mr Average. One of life's survivors.


End file.
